


Hawt Craig

by HillbillyOfDoom



Category: Late Late Show with Craig Ferguson
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-18
Updated: 2013-08-18
Packaged: 2017-12-23 21:37:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/931356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HillbillyOfDoom/pseuds/HillbillyOfDoom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Our favorite host is loving the attention his hawt new bod is getting him, but Geoff is a sad robot.</p>
<p>In keeping with the spirit of this show, please do not take ANY of this seriously.  It's just silly fluff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hawt Craig

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. Not makin' any money. Suing me would be a waste of your time. Seriously, all you'd get is a herd of really annoying goats, some chickens and some almost dead houseplants. I'm doing this purely out of love for the Ferguson and the robot.

Geoff could barely be heard over the roaring crowd as he said, "Lookin' good, pal. Lookin' goo ooo oood."

 

Craig Ferguson already had his audience standing and cheering. He wanted the women shrieking. The men whistling and jeering. He puffed out his chest and wrenched his jacket back.

 

Suspenders exposed, he strutted around in a circle like a proud peacock.

 

He teased the crowd, "Ya, think? Ya gonna' agree with the appliance?"

 

When the full out frenzy washed over him, he turned and strutted some more, tracing his steps.

 

He stopped dead and composed himself with dramatic flair for the camera. For America. He worked his shoulders and closed the jacket.

 

Just as the din began to subside, he teased the crowd with just a hint that he'd strip a little for them again. The women shrieked.

 

He grinned.  Then he grinned wickedly, as he so often loved to do.

 

He turned to his robotic co-host. "I think the women are liking this leaner meaner me."

 

Geoff surveyed the crowd. "Yes. Yes, they are. Some of them can barely control themselves."

 

"I know!" Ferguson leaned into the camera. "I can barely control _myself_... you know, when I'm _alone_..."

 

The crowd roared and Ferguson let the innuendo ride.

 

"How much are you benching now?" the robot asked.

 

Craig sighed, "I don't know."

 

He let the pause linger, then assured, "But it's a lot."

 

He stuffed his hands into his trouser pockets and grinned. "That's usually what I hear from the ladies. _It's a lot!_ "

 

Geoff waited for the newest wave of laughter to subside before saying, "I bet you're hearing that even more now."

 

"A little." The Scotsman looked at his shoes, feigning modesty. "Just a little."

 

The robot wasn't fooled. "I'll say it again. Lookin' good, pal."

 

Craig glanced up at the robot, becoming a bit more serious. "You have said it twice... no, three times. Are you trying to tell me something?"

 

"Me?" The robot shook his head, jaw dropped. "No, man. No. Can't one dude just compliment another dude."

 

"Yeah, but... you're a gay robot... soooooo....."

 

"Oh, yeah," Geoff sighed with feigned frustration, "I'm after _every_ guy I see. Checkin' out _every_ package."

 

Craig shot the robot a huge grin. "You been checkin' out my package?"

 

"Every day, man. Every day... including today. I'm doin' it right now!"

 

The crowd laughed, but the host cut them short. "No, everybody calm down, because... because... quiet... because... today's my favorite day of the year. I've been waiting all year just for today."

 

He glanced to the robot and asked, "Geoff, know what day it is?"

 

"The last day I check out your package if you don't start being nicer to me," Geoff snarked.

 

Craig rolled his eyes. "No. No."

 

He paused for dramatic effect. Then he blurted, "It's your birthday."

 

Geoff was stunned. Jaw hanging. Head shaking. Hand shaking. "My what?!"

 

Craig offered a genuine warm smile. "Yeah. It's your birthday. The day we hit the ol' switch, man. Fired up those baby blues."

 

With that said, Ferguson spun on his heels and pointed to the only horse on late night television. Secretariat stepped into a loop at the end of a long rope hanging from the ceiling. Hundreds of balloons and countless pounds of confetti rained down from the rafters.

 

The audience cheered for their favorite robot, while Craig distanced himself, backing across the stage to let Geoff have his moment.

 

"You shouldn't have," Geoff insisted.

 

The crowd didn't agree, giving the appliance another round of crazed hooting and hollering.

 

When that finally subsided, Craig reappeared, kicking balloons and skipping. "We have to go to break. Geoffrey, get us out of here."

 

Geoff looked to the camera. "We'll be back after this, to hear more from the man who can't control himself when he's alone... especially in public restrooms."

 

The show went to break and came back, like it always did. Geoff bantered with the host over tweets and emails, then after another break, he listened as Craig wowed the audience with another hilarious interview. His second interview was rather lackluster as he tried to get something, anything, out of an actress that was a couple cans short of a six pack.

 

Craig was still shaking off the stress when he walked up to Geoff. The Scotsman sighed, "That's one that won't make it long."

 

"This town eats 'em alive," Geoff commented softly, knowing his old friend was as well aware of that as he was. It was just nice to say it. Put it out there. He hated Hollywood. He suspected Craig did too.

 

Craig changed the subject, wanting lighter fare. "I'd have you over for dinner, birthday boy, but you don't eat and even if you did, you wouldn't want what they have me eating these days."

 

Geoff chuckled. "You're really sticking with this new routine aren't you."

 

Craig smiled bashfully. "Got to look good for the cameras."

 

"Got to look good for that hot leading lady," Geoff corrected.

 

Craig rapped his fist gently on Geoff's desk. "Night, ol' chum."

 

"Night, Craig"

 

The robot watched his friend walk away and muttered to himself, "Really are lookin' good, pal."

 

Craig had landed himself the leading part in a romantic comedy. His race to look the part had quickly become fodder for his late night show.

 

After pictures of his new and improved physique had somehow made it into the tabloids, the jokes had to keep coming to help Ferguson deal with this new world he was getting sucked into. He was turning into one of the beautiful people. Rubbing elbows with beautiful people. Dating beautiful people.

 

Geoff sighed. He had always thought Craig was one of the beautiful people.

 

Now the world was on to Geoff's well kept secret, trying to steal it from him. Ferguson was going places. Places that didn't need a robot.

 

The robot's little world started powering down around him. The staff disappeared one by one. Lights winked off. The hum of equipment grew fainter and fainter.

 

Well, at least they had remembered his birthday.

 

 

 


End file.
